


Kids and their goddamn technology

by Vanemis



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Fluff and Humor, Gaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 08:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14233836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanemis/pseuds/Vanemis
Summary: When Rick buys Carl a console, he gives it a spin to see what all the fuss is about. Instead he ends up matched with a foul-mouthed asshole who's way too old to still be playing video games.





	Kids and their goddamn technology

From the moment Carl got his hands on an Xbox one controller during a sleepover, Rick has been begged and bribed into buying such a console for the Grimes household. He finally gives in at Christmas, spending far more than he'd wanted on the rectangular box.

  
The staff at the store are incredibly helpful, dragging him through all the functions and apps available on the expensive machine that he’d forgotten half of by the time he left. The lovely assistant grabbed at least five games to start Carl off: some shooters and something called Minecraft.

  
At the quizzical wonder on Rick's face at the childish game, the woman assured him of its warranted fame. He gave her a doubtful shrug and tossed it into his cart. The shooters were rated for older people but since Carl is more than mature enough for his age, and his dad has taught him gun safety, Rick doesn't worry too much. He stayed away from the horrors and extremely violent games, though.

  
Eventually he leaves the shop with his cart filled with heavy bags and an empty wallet. There’s stuff in there for Judith, his young daughter; teddies, puzzles, dolls and whatever else he thought she would like. He got into his car incredibly pleased with his Christmas presents. The kids will be over the moon. How is he going to top this next year?

Rick was right. They loved everything. Judy practically jumped onto the teddy, crushing the wrapping paper in her tiny hands. She yelled happily all day, talking to the plush, pink bear with an enthusiasm rivalled by Carl's own excitement. He spent nearly the entire day getting acquainted with the white and black machine. It turns out the assistant was right: he loved Minecraft and everything Rick had picked. He only put the controller down to eat lunch and dinner. Rick had to take the controller out of his son's hands to get him upstairs ready for bed.

 

 

It’s early afternoon during the summer holidays when Carl starts yelling at somebody through the mic attached to his headphones. It sounds competitive and Rick ignores it. Carl started playing with online people months ago. What causes him to ditch the laundry is when he hears a clear and very loud ‘Fuck you, asshole!'.

  
“Carl, watch your language,” he exclaims as he strides up to the couch and watching his son with disappointment.

  
“Sorry, Dad,” Carl mouths, turning away from the screen for a second to apologise before he’s sucked back into the game. Rick observes the character run around a fancy estate, rifle bobbing with the movement. Carl finds somebody and shoots them, adding a point for his team. After a minute, Rick steps back to continue folding his uniform.

  
He’s getting back into the calm of doing chores when Carl swears again, as though he doesn't care that his dad is just in the other room.

  
“That’s it, you’re done for the day. Carl, go play outside or go read some comics. No more Xbox for today.” Rick takes the controller out of his hands, grabbing the headphones and pulling them off as well. Carl begins to protest, mouth gaping to retort but he knows better.

  
“Okay, fine. Sorry, Dad.” Carl stands up and heads upstairs, likely to grab a comic and settle down for an hour or so before trying to get back on the console. Rick won’t budge though.

  
He watches his son disappear and turns his attention back to the screen. The character is being shot at but Rick couldn’t care less. He goes to round the couch and turn it off when someone yells out of the headphones.  
A flicker of curiosity crosses his mind and before Rick knows what he’s doing, he shoves the green headphones on and adjusts them slightly.

  
“Hello?” He asks sheepishly. What even do people talk about online? So he starts off small and simple.

  
“Uh, hi,” a man answers. Rick startles. The gruff, deep voice sounds older, like Rick's age older. Is this who Carl was talking to? Why is there an older guy on here? Worry and unease mix in Rick's mind at all the possibilities.

  
“Where's Carl?”

  
“Not here. Who's this?” Rick demands harshly, his mind pushing ideas to the forefront at why this man wants to talk to Carl.

  
“Saviour66. Who the fuck are you?” The voice seems angry with his question. On the screen, the character dies again. The score shows his team is losing.

  
“I’m his father.”

  
“Oh shit, sorry man. Why'd he go? You ground him or some shit like that?”

  
How dare he accuse Rick like that? Rick grits his teeth. No wonder Carl was beginning to swear with this asshole talking like that.   
“He isn’t playing anymore for today. You swear like that with children? That’s messed up. He’s only twelve.”

  
“Yeah I do. Maybe you shouldn’t have let him play a fucking 18 rated game! This shit ain’t for kids. Christ, the point of this game is to kill people.”

  
Rick chooses to ignore that. Yes, he did buy it despite the age rating but he trusts Carl and knows he’s mature enough.

  
“You wanna tell me why some fifty-something man is doing playing games with kids in the first place? That’s fucking creepy.”

  
“Oh, for the love of God...” Saviour66 mumbles with a twinge of exhaustion and annoyance. “ _First off_ , I am forty-four. Two, kids aren’t supposed to even be on here. Three, I am in my rightful fucking right to relax after a long fucking, shitty week. You got a problem with that, come do my job for me and quit judging shit you don’t know shit about.”

  
Rick falls silent. He had only taken into consideration that this Saviour66 was a creep, not just some guy blowing off steam. His words do ring truth: if the game is for 18's and above, Carl's presence was just a mistake on Rick's part. He should have said no to such a game, instead he was trying to please his son too much.

  
“Hey, buddy, you still here?” Saviour66 asks, his voice less angry this time.

  
“Yeah, I’m still here. Why?”

  
“Sorry for screaming at you like that. Like I said, shitty week. Look, I've got an idea about this game so you can decide whether you should let the kid play it.”

  
“How d'ya read my mind?” Rick jokes, unable to restrain himself now that things seem to have settled between him and Saviour66.

  
“I’m a man of many fucking talents. Why don’t you play it yourself? Give it a go and decide for yourself.”

  
He contemplates the idea. It’s a good plan, to test it himself. But if he deems it too violent for Carl, after the kid's owned it for months, and takes it away... Carl will be shattered. But the curiosity in him is too strong. He needs to know for certain.

  
“I don’t know how to play, “ the admission mumbled into the mic as Rick realises a huge flaw in this plan. He takes the controller in hand, looking at all the different buttons and plastic bits sticking out.

  
Saviour66's laughs crackles over the connection loudly, startling Rick with a hiss of pain as the noise physically wounds his eardrums. He winces and frowns.

  
“Okay, okay. Shit, sorry. Okay, I’ll give you a crash course. Got the controller in hand?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Alright. The circle sticks are for moving and looking, triggers to zoom on your gun and to shoot, bumpers to throw stuff and melee hit, Y to change weapons, A to jump. That’s all you really need to know for COD. Don't worry, you’ll get the hang of it after a while,” Saviour66 adds after Rick doesn't reply to the barrage of information. “I’ll start up a new game. Just follow the instructions on the screen.”

  
A moment later, the screen changes to a menu and a notification pops up on the bottom half. Saviour66 has invited you to Call Of Duty. Rick does as the screen tells him, accepting the invite. He watches with a bit of amazement as the menu goes away and he’s left staring at a countdown.

His character spawns in, rifle in hand, in a town crowded with various buildings and plenty of blind spots. The cop in Rick scans the environment, pushing at the control to walk around the area, committing it to memory. He reads the graffiti and ads plastered against the walls, impressive at the detail like the trash floating in the air. A soldier comes into view, dressed in black and grey camo with metal pipes attached to his back and limbs.

  
“There you are,” Saviour66 calls out cheerfully. “Alright, well, the point is to shoot each other until one of us wins when the timer runs out. Good luck.”

  
Before Rick can say anything, his character is shot down dramatically at point blank with a combat shotgun.

  
“Oh, you’re on,” Rick exclaims with excitement seeping into his words. He’s nervous, his aim terrible and his shooting even worse, but after five minutes he’s finally shot Saviour66 three times. The other man has a score of twelve.

  
“Damn, I know you’re really new but that is a shitty score!”

  
“Let’s have a rematch. Consider this a trial. I’ll kick your ass this time.”

  
“Alright, loser, show me what you’ve got.”

  
By the time the match ends, Rick has eight and Saviour66 has nine. He’s getting much better and the other player tells him so. The violence isn’t too extreme. Sure, the point is to kill but during the game, Saviour66 explained it was literally a stimulation. No one actually really died. The gore isn’t bad, either. There’s plenty worse he watches with Carl on movie night.

  
“I’ll let Carl keep this. It isn’t too bad. Thanks for showing it to me.”

  
“No problem, darling,” Saviour66 laughs softly. “Damn, you sure made my day a hell of a lot better.”

  
Some part of Rick wants to know more, probably the compassionate part that lives to help other people. He flushes at the endearment.

  
“What was so bad about this week? You said it was shit.”

  
If Saviour66 is surprised by the question, Rick can’t tell. He’s quick to answer.

  
“Dealing with annoying people and their demands. I, uh, am a security officer, run my own little team, but the last client's been treating my boys like shit so I had to step in. Got ugly. Well, shit, I got suspended. Pretty sure they’re gonna fire me...”

  
“Shit... I’m sorry, man. I hope you get to keep your job.”

  
“I don’t! It’s a fucking shithole, terrible job itself. But I need the cash bad. Sorry, I’m spilling all my fucking troubles on you. What do you even do?”

  
“I’m a sheriff's deputy.”

  
Rick smiles at the impressed noise Saviour66 makes. “Well, shit! Didn’t know I was playing with a real life officer. That’s cool. Is it bad where you are? The crime rate or whatever it’s called.”

  
“Nah, it’s pretty quiet down here. I’m on leave for two weeks, though. So I can spend time with Carl.”

  
“So where’s ‘down here'? You’ve got one hell of an accent, officer. You from Georgia?”

  
“Yeah. You got it.” Rick doesn’t mind telling the man. It’s not like he’s ever going to meet him in real life. “What about you?”

  
“Virginia. Not close by any means. Shame, I'd have liked to get to know you. You seem like a fucking interesting guy. Hey, my schedule's pretty freed up at the moment, why don’t we chat on here? Get you shooting better as well. What d’ya say?”

  
Half an hour ago, Rick would have told him to fuck off, but now the idea of talking even more to this man sounds fun. He nods, forgetting that Saviour66 can’t see it. Embarrassed by that, he’s quick to agree.

  
“Awesome. Well, I guess you should make your account. So I know when it’s you.” Rick agrees again, letting the man guide him through the steps. It’s easier than doing it on his own because he’d honestly be lost. “So, you went with DeputyGrimes73? Nice and fucking intimidating. Grimes your last name?”

  
“Yeah. Rick Grimes.”

  
“Ooh, sends shivers down my fucking spine. Shit, that accent's getting me all riled up."

  
“Shuddup,” Rick chuckles with a red face. “Like ‘saviour’ is any better. What’s your real name anyways?”

  
“Goddamn right it’s better! Negan. It’s Negan.”

  
“Just Negan? Alright, I guess we’ll be getting to know each other. But right now, I’ve gotta go. Got plenty of work to do ‘round the house.”

  
“Aww, shit. I was hoping we could talk more. Fine, get back to your fucking chores. I ain’t going anywhere. Talk soon, officer.”

  
“Bye, Negan. Good luck with your job.” Negan hums in agreement and his connection cuts off, leaving Rick in silence.

  
He hasn’t expected anything like this, but it was fun to play and learn something new even though he’s shit at gaming. Plus Negan seems like the type of guy Rick could get along with, plus there’s no awkwardness of talking face to face or having to uphold some kind of image when they don’t know what the other looks like. It takes the stress out of socialising that Rick's never enjoyed.

  
He turns off the Xbox almost solemnly. It surprises him that some part just wants to get back online and spend the day talking to this internet stranger. Still, someone has to do the chores and he’s certain his twelve year old boy certainly won’t volunteer. But once he’s done with everything for the day, nothing’s stopping him from logging back on. It’s not like he’s planned anything for tomorrow and his vacation's only just started. He’s got two full weeks to get to know this Negan and damn is he looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought and if you want more like this.


End file.
